To Find Her Place

by Susan Anne Mason

“I think that would be best.”

  “I’ll get my notes and be right back.”

  An hour later, they had gone over several months’ worth of expenses with amazing efficiency. Jane was indeed a thorough recordkeeper, although she admitted that finances weren’t her strong suit and that Mr. Bolton, the volunteer she’d previously mentioned, did most of the detailed figure work. So far, Garrett had found no hint of mismanagement of funds, which, he could admit, was a relief. The more time he spent with Jane, the more he admired her skills. Her integrity had shone through in all their dealings so far. He couldn’t imagine her being responsible for perpetrating any type of fraud.

  “Tell me,” he said as they wrapped up, “how did you come to have a career at the Children’s Aid?” He leaned back in his chair, aiming to adopt a casual air. He truly was interested in her history, since strong, independent women in high positions were a rarity.

  Her brows rose above her glasses. “I started working here as a clerk out of high school. Over the years, I got my college diploma in social work and became a caseworker, which is the position I enjoyed the most—where I felt I made a real difference in the children’s lives.”

  “I can imagine how fulfilling that must be.” He tilted his head, one glaring question consuming his thoughts. “I’m curious, though. This job obviously requires long hours and a great deal of dedication. Does your husband not object to your spending so much time here?”

  Her smile instantly vanished. “This is the forties, Mr. Wilder. Modern women do work outside the home now.” Her nostrils flared. “Besides, with my husband gone, it’s up to me to support my family.”

  “I see.” He hesitated, then purposely gentled his voice. “Does your family include children?” There were no photos of her husband or children around the room, but then again, the office still technically belonged to Mr. Mills.

  Her head flew up, and her green eyes flashed. Then just as quickly, a mask seemed to come over her features. “Unfortunately, my husband and I weren’t blessed with children, which makes me all the more grateful to have my career to fall back on.”

  Despite her crisp tone, Garrett sensed the underlying pain beneath her words. How difficult must it be to yearn for a child, yet bravely soldier on to place other people’s children in good homes?

  “Well, I admire your fortitude. And as far as I can tell, you’re doing an admirable job filling in for Mr. Mills.”

  She looked up at him, the first hint of vulnerability on her face. “Do you really think so?”

  “I haven’t delved into all areas yet, but from what I can see at the outset, you have stepped in and kept things running smoothly. I can find nothing out of the ordinary in the expenses, except for one or two minor additions and—”

  “What additions?” she snapped.

  “Well, for one, this entry here.” He reached across the ledger to point out a figure. “It’s marked as birthday gifts. I presume that means gifts for the children?”

  “Correct.” She pulled off her glasses and frowned. “What’s wrong with that?”

  “It’s a sizeable expense for something unnecessary.”

  “I disagree. I think every child deserves a birthday present. It increases their morale and gives them something to look forward to.”

  “From a business standpoint, however, it’s an unnecessary expense. One I will recommend be stopped.”

  Her eyes widened. “Next, you’ll want to cancel Christmas.”

  He held back a laugh at her exasperated tone. “Just call me Mr. Scrooge.”

  “You can’t be serious? Children must have Christmas. That is non-negotiable.”

  He narrowed his eyes. “Did Mr. Mills support this practice?”

  She hesitated for a second. “Not exactly. I implemented it after he took sick.”

  “What did you do in previous years?”

  “People in the community donated toys and candies for them.”

  “Did this cost the agency anything?”

  “No.”

  “Then I suggest we continue with that practice. There are many ways to provide children with a nice Christmas and birthday gifts without spending agency funds. It just takes a little creativity.” He waited, hoping she wouldn’t continue to argue with him.

  When her shoulders slumped, he took it as a sign of victory.

  “You have a point,” she said. “I guess the newfound authority went to my head a little.” She gave a sheepish shrug, and a faint blush stained her cheeks.

  He hoped it was the only way it had gone to her head and that she had nothing to do with any missing funds. The more he got to know her, the higher his opinion of her grew, and he hated to think she could be involved in anything like that. If indeed there were some sort of mismanaged funds, he prayed it was just an honest mistake, one easily rectified.

  He rose from his seat. “Thank you for your time. I’ll continue my investigation and make note of any further ways to cut costs.”

  With a nod in her direction, he tucked the ledger under his arm and made his way back to his cubbyhole, where he tossed the book onto the desk with a sigh and rubbed the place on his chest where the shrapnel resided. Even if Jane was completely innocent, which he prayed she was, he needed to remember that they were vying for the same position.

  He could not allow his growing respect for the woman to interfere with his plans to secure his future.

  7

  The taxi company says they won’t be able to send a car out for another half an hour. Something about a traffic accident and several cabs being stuck.” Melanie shrugged one shoulder in apology as she hung up the phone.

  Jane set her handbag on Melanie’s desk with a thud. “Well, that’s inconvenient timing.” She blew a piece of hair off her forehead. She was already leaving work later than she’d hoped. Now, Mama would have to wait a bit longer while Jane caught the bus.

  “What’s inconvenient?” Garrett appeared in the open doorway.

  Jane’s spine stiffened. She’d hoped to leave without him noticing. “Just a delay in getting a cab. I’ll take the bus instead.”

  “Do you need a ride home?” He came more fully into the room. He’d shed his suit jacket at some point and rolled his shirtsleeves up to the elbow, revealing finely muscled forearms sprinkled with dark hair.

  “Thank you, but no. I’m going to pick up my mother at the hospital.”

  “Even more reason to accept a ride.” His brow rose as he looked at her. “My car is right outside. Please allow me to do this for you.”

  She bit her lip. If she accepted his offer, she’d have to make small talk in the car. But it was only a fifteen-minute drive, and there were usually several taxis waiting at the hospital. Once Mama was released, they could take a cab home. She let out a weary breath. “Very well. I would appreciate a lift if it’s not too much trouble.”

  A grin brightened his features. “Wonderful. Let me grab my jacket.”

  Jane stared at the empty doorway, frowning. Something about this man unsettled her in ways she couldn’t explain.

  “What’s the scowl for?” Melanie asked, amusement lacing her voice. “It’s only a car ride.”

  “I don’t know. I just sense there’s an ulterior motive in everything Mr. Wilder says or does.” She shook her head. “Maybe I’m being paranoid.”

  “Or perhaps it’s something else.” Melanie leaned back in her chair, the wood creaking in protest. “I know this audit has us all on edge, but you have to admit, the man is gorgeous.”

  Jane aimed a fierce glare at her friend. “I’m married. Remember?” Melanie was the only one in the office who knew Jane was divorced, and therefore, single.

  She laughed. “Fair warning, Boss. I intend to do my best to catch Mr. Wilder’s attention while he’s here. After all, with this blasted war dragging on, there aren’t many eligible men around.”

  “I thought you were interested in Harold Bolton.” Jane hadn’t approved of Melanie dating one of the agency’s volunteers, but sin
ce Mr. Bolton wasn’t an official employee, there was little Jane could do, except warn Melanie to be discreet.

  “A girl has to keep her options open. Besides, I’m pretty sure he’s seeing other people, so why shouldn’t I?”

  Jane shook her head. “For all you know, Mr. Wilder could be married.”

  “He’s not. I asked him.”

  Why did that thought bother her? “Be careful, Melanie. You know that dating co-workers is frowned upon.”

  Melanie doubled over in a sudden fit of coughing.

  “Are you all right, Miss Benton?” Garrett’s concerned voice came from behind Jane. “Can I get you some water?”

  “I’m fine. Thank you.” Melanie’s scarlet face belied her words, yet Jane believed the blush was more from embarrassment than from her cough.

  Jane picked up her bag. “Good night, Melanie. Would you cancel the taxi for me, please?”

  “Right away.”

  As she walked past a bewildered Garrett, Jane resisted the urge to roll her eyes. In so many ways, the man’s presence in the building was creating chaos. Who knew how many of the other employees had their eyes on him?

  Jane only hoped his investigation would wrap up as soon as possible. Maybe then some semblance of normalcy would return to the Children’s Aid offices.

  As Garrett drove toward the hospital, he risked a sidelong glance at Jane in the passenger seat of his car. Earlier, he’d gotten the impression that he’d walked in on a private conversation between the two women, and she now seemed rather sullen.

  “Dare I ask what that was all about back there?” he asked. “Was I the butt of some joke?”

  “Not really.” Her lips twitched at the corners. “But I do believe Miss Benton has set her cap for you, Mr. Wilder.”

  He shook his head. “I’m flattered but not interested. I’m here to do a job and only that.”

  “Right. No fraternizing with the enemy.” The hint of sarcasm in her voice had him looking over at her again.

  “Is that how you view me? Or how you think I view you? As the enemy?”

  “No. I mean . . .” A rosy hue invaded her cheeks. “I’m not sure exactly how to view you.”

  “Well, as I’ve already explained, we’re on the same team, working toward the betterment of the agency.”

  “I hope you mean that,” she said quietly. “I’d hate to think I had to guard every word and action around you, for fear you might use some piece of information against me.”

  An itch crept up his neck as her words cut a bit too close for comfort. But his interest in Jane wasn’t malicious. He was only doing his job. “Believe me, I don’t deal in gossip or innuendo. I will only report what I deem necessary to effect a positive change in the department’s operations. You have my word on that.”

  They drove on in silence for a few minutes. Garrett drummed his fingers against the steering wheel.

  “Tell me more about young Martin,” he said at last. “How did he end up in the system?”

  Her rigid posture relaxed slightly. “He was abandoned by his mother when he was nine months old. Dropped off at a church with a note saying she couldn’t keep him.”

  “That young.” Garrett whistled. “Although I imagine a healthy infant would’ve been in great demand for adoption.”

  “You’re right. He was placed with a young couple who were initially thrilled to get him. Unfortunately, when Martin was just under two, they brought him back. He stayed at the Infants’ Home for a while until another family was found. But just after his fourth birthday, the same thing happened, and this time he was brought to our shelter.”

  “Right. Because the Infants’ Home only keeps children until the age of four.” Garrett remembered that from their talk the other day.

  “Yes.” Jane sighed. “Martin’s been in and out of foster homes ever since.”

  Garrett’s chest tightened. What could a child have done to deserve such callous treatment? “Did these people give a reason why they returned him?”

  Jane shot him an uneasy look while twisting her fingers into a tight pretzel. “If I tell you, it must remain confidential.”

  “That goes without saying.”

  She hesitated for a moment, then seemed to come to a decision. “Martin suffers from epileptic seizures. We think it’s probably what led his mother to give him up in the first place. It was certainly the reason why the adoptive parents brought him back. They had no interest in a child with special needs. His medical problems, coupled with constant rejection, caused increasingly bad behavior as he got older, all contributing factors that have made him difficult to place.” She lifted her chin. “But I’m determined to find him a permanent home if it’s the last thing I do.”

  Garrett sifted through the information. “I presume that once Martin’s condition became known, any potential parents were made aware of the situation.”

  “Of course.”

  “Wouldn’t they have been prepared for his seizures, then? Received medical training on what to do?”

  “Yes, but sadly the reality proves harder to deal with than reading about the condition on paper.”

  “I see. So, what do you intend to do now?”

  She released a long breath. “What I always do. Keep him in the shelter until another family can be found.” She shook her head. “I keep praying that God will find him the right home. I don’t know why my prayers seem to go unanswered.”

  Garrett drove in silence, shifting gears as he accelerated. “Have you ever considered a different type of adoption for Martin? A widow, perhaps? Maybe a grandmotherly type? It sounds like Martin could benefit from some one-on-one attention.”

  Jane nodded. “I’ve often thought an unconventional family would be more suited to Martin.” She paused, as though reluctant to continue. “I’ve mentioned the idea in the past to Mr. Mills, but he didn’t agree with changing the usual criteria to suit one child and didn’t feel it merited bringing such a change before the board.”

  Garrett turned a corner, then gave her a cautious glance. “Forgive me if I’m overstepping, but what about you and your husband? You’re obviously fond of Martin.” Given her attachment to the boy, Garrett couldn’t imagine that she hadn’t at least considered the idea of adopting him herself.

  Jane’s knuckles went white around her purse handle. Her throat worked up and down until Garrett thought she might have choked on something. “Donald didn’t wish to adopt,” she finally said.

  Those five clipped words didn’t mask the river of pain beneath them. Garrett could only imagine the tense conversations they must have had on the subject. Some men believed strongly in propagating their own offspring to carry on the family name. Perhaps Jane’s husband was one of them.

  A short time later, he pulled up to the front of the hospital entrance and slowed to a stop.

  “Thank you for the ride,” she said. “It was very kind of you.”

  Once again, her guard was up, her professional façade in place. Before he could untangle himself from behind the wheel, she had pushed out of the passenger door.

  “I’ll wait here for you,” he called after her.

  She turned to look over her shoulder. “Please don’t. I have no idea how long it will take to get my mother discharged. I’ll see you tomorrow in the office.”

  She lifted her hand in a quick wave, then hurried toward the entrance, leaving Garrett feeling that he’d pulled the scab off an old wound without knowing exactly how to make it better.

  8

  Jane strode down the hospital corridor, attempting to shake off any residual tension from her car ride with Garrett. Those fifteen minutes had been even worse than she’d expected.

  “What about you and your husband? You’re obviously fond of Martin.”

  It almost seemed like he was trying to provoke her with his personal questions.

  Probing for her secrets.

  Secrets she had no intention of divulging.

  If she were to survive this trying period with hi
m watching her every move, it was imperative to keep a professional distance. Her personal life needed to remain strictly off-limits.

  Setting her resolve, Jane made her way to her mother’s room on the sixth floor. Thankfully, Mama was dressed and sitting on the side of the bed, her bag clutched on her lap. Ugly green curtains were pulled around the other three beds in the ward.

  “There you are, dear.” Mama stood as soon as she spied Jane in the doorway. “I am more than ready to go home.” She rolled her eyes toward the bed nearest her.

  As if to punctuate Mama’s veiled insinuation, a loud, hacking cough sounded from behind the curtain.

  “Wait until I get a wheelchair, Mama, and we’ll head out.”

  “No need,” a cheerful voice called out.

  Jane turned to see a nurse in a white short-sleeved uniform rolling a chair through the door.

  “I have one right here for you, Mrs. Mitchell.” The young woman parked the wheelchair, then moved to the foot of the bed, where she lifted the chart from a hook. “Looks like your paperwork has been signed and you’re ready to go.”

  The lines in Mama’s face relaxed. “Thank you for your kindness, Betty.”

  “All part of the job.” The nurse smiled, transforming her plain features. “I hope we don’t see you back here again anytime soon.”

  “I’ll do my best.” Mama allowed Betty to help her into the wheelchair without a peep.

  “Any instructions?” Jane asked as she gripped the chair’s handles.

  “Her heart has resumed a normal rhythm. Just make sure she gets plenty of rest, interspersed with a little mild activity to keep the joints moving.” She winked at Mama. “We don’t want you getting spoiled.”

  “Thank you, Betty.” Jane smiled at the woman. “We appreciate your care.”

  As Jane wheeled her mother out into the corridor, she spotted Dr. Henshaw coming toward them.

  “Ah, is my patient leaving me already?” he teased.

  Mama chuckled. “As much as I love your company, I’m glad to be going home.”

  Jane’s tense muscles eased a fraction, more relieved than she realized to see the doctor before they left. He was a kind man with a wonderful bedside manner, one Mama thrived under. And even though he wasn’t much older than Jane, she trusted him implicitly to never sugarcoat the truth. “You’re certain my mother’s all right to go home?”